The Bowstrings that Bind
by Lady Eleanor Boleyn
Summary: On the night of her Bonding to Rodolphus, Cygnus Black finds him reminiscing over his daughter Bellatrix. Challenge response.


**For Cathy's Fathers Challenge. 700 words.**

**Note: Amazona comes from Amazon and is Cygnus's pet name for Bella ever since she was little. Takes place on the night of her Bonding to Rodolphus and sort of touches on my own Traditions Challenge too, since I never got the chance to upload anything for that one... Enjoy!**

**The Bowstrings That Bind**

Bellatrix. _"Female Warrior"._

Lord Cygnus Antares Black had named his eldest daughter that almost without thinking. It fitted well with both the family name, Black, and Zealous, the middle name Druella had had picked out long before Bellatrix had even been born.

Besides, it was a star's name. Like all the other Black names. Even the other name under consideration, Lyra, had been a star name.

Yet, watching his eldest daughter twirl skilfully under her Uncle Orion's careful hand, Cygnus had to admit that it fitted her particularly well. Maybe there had been some note of Fate in his choice.

The amount of elfin wine he had consumed was enough to make him, not drunk, but pleasantly nostalgic, so, excusing himself from his conversation with Levin Lestrange, Cygnus withdrew to a corner of the room, closing his eyes to remember when Bellatrix, his Bellatrix, had been placed in his arms for the first time.

"_Lord Black, you have a healthy baby daughter."_

_At the words, Cygnus gritted his teeth. A daughter! A daughter! He hadn't wanted a daughter! Daughters had their uses, yes, but only as vessels to carry on a bloodline; breeders for the next generation! That child was supposed to be a son!_

"_Let me see her." _

_With a nod, the midwife disappeared into the next room and came out, bearing a squalling infant in her arms._

"_She has spirit, this one, My Lord."_

"_Not too much, I hope."_

_However, looking down at the fragile infant in his arms, Cygnus realised that this girl was different. A girl she might be, but she was a Black. A Black Princess. Spirit might not be such a bad thing._

"_Bellatrix. We're calling her Bellatrix. Bellatrix Zealous Black." He spoke the words almost before realising that they were in his mind._

"_Very good, My Lord." Bobbing a curtsy, the midwife vanished back into the bedroom, presumably to tell Druella of his decision._

He had sometimes wondered whether the baby girl in his arms had somehow sensed what a momentous name she had been given right from the start. She had always strived to live up to family expectations; to be his warrior Princess. Even her first piece of magic had been a tempestuous one – throwing a tantrum at the age of eighteen months, she had managed to shatter every crystal glass that the house elves had set out for her parents' dinner with the Selwyns and Boles that night.

"Papa?" As though she could tell he was far away, his second daughter, Andromeda, suddenly appeared beside him.

Starting, but successfully masking his surprise from those around them, he smiled down at Andromeda.

"Yes?"

"It's time."

Time. Time was such a cruel mistress. First she made him resent the nine months of Druella's pregnancy when he couldn't lie with her; then she gave him a mere sixteen years with his eldest daughter. Sixteen fleeting years.

True, Bella would still live with them until the summer after she finished Hogwarts, but by tradition, if not in legal terms, she'd be a Lestrange from the moment this last dance ended. It was the last dance of her childhood. Her last dance as a Black Princess.

Swallowing the lump in his throat only with difficulty, Cygnus drew himself up and then went to reclaim Bellatrix from his brother's hold.

"Ready, Amazona?" He whispered, brushing his lips over the back of his precious daughter's hand.

"Tojours, Papa, Tojours." Bella promised.

Cygnus had expected no other answer from her. Squeezing her hand gently, he turned, leading her out on to the floor.

"Play a Tango!"

There were shocked gasps at his deviation from tradition; the final dance was usually a waltz; perhaps a foxtrot. But this was **Bella's **last dance. **His **Bella's last dance. He'd be damned if he forced her into dancing one of those romantic dances that she so detested.

As the musicians struck up, he bowed to his daughter, receiving a silent curtsy in return and then swept her into the driving passion of the dance, determined to catch these last few priceless moments and hold them forever. Hold them as he couldn't hold Bellatrix. His Bellatrix. His Amazon Princess.


End file.
